


Course Correction

by 888mph



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Epic Friendship, F/M, Failwolf Friday, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of canon character death, Romantic Comedy, Slow Build, life coaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/888mph/pseuds/888mph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Derek fails to realize he has a best friend and Scott manages to avoid the Nice Guy trope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone following Drive: I'M SO SORRY!  
> The end chapter is already written, but I'm so unhappy with Derek's voice in it, I need to do some major overhauling before posting it. I'll get to it, don't worry.
> 
> As for this, this started as a silly post after 3.02 aired and Danielle shot Scott down. Now it's a fic. :P
> 
> Thanks 4seiji for the wonderful beta and whovianhoney for the title.

Danielle has had it.

She's not stupid, she knows this hellhole of a town has gone to shit pretty much since that mess of a party Lydia Martin threw. And her own world pretty much ended the night Heather died, at her _own_ birthday party (Danielle is never setting foot at a party again, not even if Beyoncé herself invites her).

Going to see the school counselor had been the sensible thing to do. Or so she thought. But of course BHH had to have _Morrell_ in that role, and between cryptic advice and actually good advice that don't do shit because Morrell _doesn't follow through_ , Danielle is ready to write down her name in the list of Skeevy Things Happening Around Town. With capital letters. 

It's a disturbingly long list.

Now, she could talk to Lydia and Stiles. They're obviously involved in whatever is going on. Plus, she has known Lydia ever since they were little girls and their parents would drag them to Beacon Hills' so-called Country Club (which is neither a club, nor in the country, but rich people in small towns like to pretend), and Stiles was the last person to see Heather alive.

The problem is that, those two? Major issues. Danielle is not touching that with a ten-foot pole. 

There's Allison, but Danielle barely knows the girl; Isaac, who's _weird_ ; the twins, that give Danielle huge bad-touch vibes, especially _between_ them; and Danny, who's probably even more clueless than her. Or he's the mastermind behind everything, she's not sure. Either way, no.

That leaves her Scott, who's nice and eager to please. 

Danielle ambushes Scott in a coffee-shop where he's studying after his friends leave.

“Scott?”

Scott whips his head around and when he sees her, his face breaks in a huge smile. He straightens up, runs a hand through his hair and he tries for nonchalance, leaning with his elbow against the table.

Unfortunately he lands with his elbow on the tray, which goes flying, together with his half-drunk latte. 

Danielle looks at his mortified face and sighs.

“Can I sit down?”

“Sure.” Scott nods. “Sorry about... hmm, this.” He quickly dabs at the spilled latte with a napkin. Then he turns to hail the waitress. “You want something?”

Danielle shakes her head at the waitress and waits for her to bring Scott another drink and clean the mess on the floor, before leaning in.

“I want to know what the hell is going on this town.”

Scott gulps.

“Uh, I don't know what--”

“Don't you I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about me, Scott. I know you know what's going on. And I know you know I know whatever it is it's not what the school and the authorities are telling us. And I know you and your buddies are all involved in it. And I know you know I know that.” 

“Okay, you lost me.” 

“Scott!”

Scott suddenly decides that the air conditioner hanging precariously from the café's balcony is fascinating.

“I _will_ find out whatever is going on, with or without your help. So, tell me: what are the chances that _that_ will get me killed?” 

He sighs and runs a hand down his face.

“All right, but not here.” Scott picks up his drink and his books and Danielle follows him to the parking lot.

And in the parking lot she learns about werewolves. About born werewolves, like the Hales, and bitten werewolves, like Scott. About betas, alphas and true alphas (she doesn't scream when Scott's eyes flash red at her. She doesn't. At all). 

She learns about hunters and the Argents, and emissaries and how Heather was killed by Miss Blake (Miss Blake! That I'm-adorably-awkward-and-ridiculously-cool-at-the-same-time thing she had going on never fooled Danielle), who was something that sounds like the chorus of a Lady Gaga song, and used her in a sacrifice to seduce Derek Hale into helping her get revenge on her ex, who cheated on her with a guy. A werewolf guy. And she was a werewolf, too. The ex, not Miss Blake. Miss Blake was the Daraw-raw-raw-raw thing. 

“And... You guys have meetings?” she asks Scott.

“Yeah, in Derek's loft.”

“I thought he had left with his sister in some journey of self-discovery and sibling bonding?” 

“Right,” Scott says, a bit sheepish. “He returned when Cora decided to try college instead.” 

Geez, the poor guy can't even go in a spiritual journey without being ditched by the person he was supposed to be bonding with. Give him a break! 

“When's the next meeting?”

“Why?”

“Because I'm coming.”

“No, you're not.” Scott's eyes flash red again.

“Why?”

“Because you're human.”

“Speciesist!” 

Scott blinks.

“Danielle, getting involved in the supernatural can be really dangerous to anyone, let alone for those who don't have superpowers.”

“You wanna know what's dangerous? Not knowing what's going on around you. Not being prepared,” Danielle says. “Do you honestly think that, now that I know about this, I'll go back to my life and pretend nothing _really bad_ will ever happen? And you talk about humans, but what about Allison? She's human, too.”

“Yeah, but she's a trained hunter.”

“Lydia? Don't tell me she has any training other than walking around on stilts.” 

“No, but she's not human, either.”

Danielle's eyes go wide.

“She isn't? I _knew_ there was something wrong with her.”

“Now who's being a speciesist?” Scott preens, looking all smug about his comeback. Danielle glares at him and his face falls.

“Danny?”

“Danny is dating a sadomasochist werewolf who can meld with his twin and turn into Megatron and he just thinks the guy has a troubled past.” 

“And then you'll be oh-so-surprised when he turns up ripped up to shreds,” Danielle says and Scott scratches the back of his neck guiltily. “Stiles?”

“What about him?”

“He's human, right? Any special abilities?” 

“No, but he's Stiles.”

“Yeah? And I'm Danielle.”

“Before you can even think about telling Stiles not to go messing with something, he's already knees-deep in it, so it's better to keep him on our radar.”

Danielle fixes Scott with a blank stare. Scott glares at her. She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. Scott goes a little cross-eyed when the movement makes her cleavage rise, but he clears his throat and shines his alpha-eyes at her, like that's supposed to impress her and make her obey. She rolls her eyes. 

Finally he throws his arms in the air.

“Fine! Tomorrow, around 9 pm. I'll text you Derek's address when I'm about to leave.”

~~~~~~~~

Scott must have told the others Danielle was coming, because when she arrives and they're all hanging outside, they eye her with suspicion (especially Allison and Isaac), but not surprise.

Lydia and Stiles quickly snap out of it and smile at her, just before they head upstairs.

When Scott said Derek lived in a loft, Danielle had envisioned something swanky, New York style, that could easily look straight from the set of 'Sex and the City'.

This? Well, this is just sad. 

As the werewolves engage in fight-practice and the humans (and whatever Lydia is) pore over old books and Allison's impressive array of weaponry, Danielle inspects her surroundings. The more she sees, the sadder she gets. 

Mind you, Danielle's mom is an interior designer, so she can appreciate a minimalist approach to decor. And she also knows some people lead a whole holistic, earthly-goods-just-hold-you-back life, but this is not it. There's spartan and there's 'no fucks given about life', and Derek's home obviously falls in the latter category (Danielle's good at reading stuff like that. It's one of the reasons why she wants to be a counselor). 

Now, Danielle misses Heather. She misses having her as her best friend. She will forever mourn the fact that the world lost someone like her, that the future will come without her being part of it, without having what she could have become. But she also misses _being_ Heather's best friend. Knowing that there was someone out there that valued her opinion above all others'. That there was someone out there she was responsible for, based on a silent mutual agreement. Danielle doesn't want to replace Heather, and that's impossible, but she wants to have that again. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Danielle turns to see Derek with his arms crossed and looking more surprised than angry. She'll never get over how soft his voice is. “And more important, _who_ the hell are you?”

Poor darling, if it took him so long to spot a stranger in his apartment, when he has super-senses, he really needs help. 

Danielle grins.

“I'm your new best friend!”

~~~~~~~~

The following Saturday, late in the morning, late enough to allow her to rest after a full week, but not so late as to allow Derek to continue to fail at adulthood, Danielle knocks at his door. She hears some shuffling behind the door, which then stops for a moment, before the door slides open to show a sleep-mussed and very angry Derek.

“ _What?_ ” He looks so tired, Danielle feels slightly guilty for around half a second. “No, really, what?”

“Hi,” she says, unfazed by his grumpiness. Her dad always needs a whole pot of coffee after waking up before he's capable of human speech, so this is nothing new.

Derek takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment.

“Hi,” he finally says with a big sigh. “What do you want?”

“To discuss some stuff with you,” she says, breezing past him into the loft.

Derek looks at her, then back to where she was standing outside and blinks, before closing the door.

“Listen... Danielle, right?” He scrunches his face and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “If this is about the bite you have to talk to Scott, because I'm no longer an alpha. And even if I were, I've learned my lesson and I'd never turn another desperate teen again. The bite is only a gift for those who are ready for it.” 

Danielle gives him a disbelieving look.

“Do I look like a desperate teenager to you?”

“Hmm...”

“I'm here to talk about you. You're the one who needs help, not me.”

Derek stares at her, mouth opening and closing, making him look like a big, very buff fish in sweat pants and tousled hair. 

“The first order of business is this apartment: a home is where one recharges, where one feels safe.” She speaks clearly, slowly, making big, entrancing movements with her hands. “A home should not only reflect the soul of its owner, but reflect back and reshape said soul.” If only her mom could hear her now she'd be so proud. “A depressing home like this makes for a depressed soul, which then makes an even more depressing home. It's a never-ending cycle of depression and ugly furniture.” 

Derek makes a hilariously offended noise in the back of his throat.

“Hey, now! I like this stuff!”

“No, you don't.”

“Excuse me?”

“You _think_ you like it, because this is the most you _think_ you're allowed to like.” Danielle gives him a small sad, but compassionate smile. 

“What?” And really, Danielle needs to get Derek a thesaurus. The guy needs to learn new words.

“Honey, no one can get their life back together, when at the end of the day they sit their tush on a. Crushed. Velvet. Sofa.” 

“What?” A really big and extensive thesaurus.

“Luckily for you,” she says, reaching for her purse with a flourish. “My mom works a lot with Pottery Barn, which means she has a special discount card and she's letting me use it.” Truth be told she doesn't know Danielle has it, but she knows she wouldn't mind that much. 

Derek stares at her for a long time and Danielle gets a bit worried, because she's not exactly sure he's even breathing.

And then he gives one long suffering sigh.

“Whatever. Do what you want; it's not like I care anyway.” He shrugs and turns his back to her. “I'm going back to sleep.”

No fucks given about life, just like she predicted. Danielle would pat herself on the back, if this weren't so sad.

~~~~~~~~

“Holy shit,” Stiles all but yells. “We got the wrong apartment.”

The entire pack is standing at the door, mouths open, while Derek stands in the middle of his newly refurbished loft, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Wolves at least try to run away from cars. 

“Erm, Derek,” Scott says carefully. “What exactly happened here?”

Derek points at Danielle without a word.

Lydia steps inside slowly, taking in the new living area, the sparring area, the sleeping area that is now hidden away by a classy dark wood screen. She puffs one of the throw-pillows, hand embroided with the black silhouette of a howling wolf, and sits down on the brown leather Chesterfield couch. 

“Very man-cave chic,” she says, running a hand down the arm of the couch. “I love it.” She gives Danielle an appreciative nod.

“Thank you!”

And just like that, with Lydia's blessing, the others just shrug, settle on the new furniture and start going about their day.

Derek's eyebrows jump in surprise, before he approaches the living area. He carefully perches himself on the Eames recliner and then slides back a bit, wiggling his butt. He tilts his head, surprised, before finally leaning back and propping his feet on the ottoman. 

Scott gives her a small grateful smile on Derek's behalf. At least someone is grateful. Derek hasn't even muttered a single thank you. Where did she put that thesaurus?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: Scott mentions Kate and Jennifer having roofied Derek and there's some under-age drinking. Nothing much, just the girls getting tipsy at Lydia's. Plus, there's some mild Twilight-bashing.

The pots and pans and the three ten-minute-recipe books Danielle filled Derek’s kitchen with went weeks collecting dust.

Until the Creature of the Black Lagoon decided to move in to the lake near the preserve (that’s what Stiles calls it, anyway. The others just call it a swamp monster, which is apparently a thing).

It’s a particularly pleasant late autumn Friday night and Danielle is on her first monster hunt! It’s very exciting.

They’re hiding behind several trees on a small hill, where they can watch the monster on the shores of the lake. Lydia reminded them that, if the monster lives mostly underwater, it shouldn’t have a sense of smell. Which is great, because the stench the monster is giving is making everyone gag, especially the werewolves. If they weren’t upwind, they wouldn’t survive.

The monster looks like an overgrown wet sloth and is shuffling around on its hind legs, while searching for something in the shrubbery that grows on the shore. Scott, Derek and Isaac wolf out, Allison gets in position with her bow, and Lydia, Stiles and Danielle stay back behind the trees. Danielle has never considered herself a coward, but she’s still relieved when Stiles and Lydia instinctively shove her behind them.

“Scott,” Derek whispers. “Do you hear that?”

“Is that a duck?” Scott whispers back.

Sure enough a duck comes running from the other side of the monster, flapping her wings nervously. The monster reaches for the shrubbery and then turns to the duck, carefully cupping a tiny ball of fluff in its front paws, and places it on the ground. A tiny duckling jumps from its paws and runs to the mother. The monster repeats the process a few times, until six ducklings are waddling safely behind their mother. The monster makes happy boop-boop noises, before going back to the water.

“Hmm,” says Allison, lowering her bow.

“Duuuude,” whispers Stiles.

Scott's shoulders slump.

“We need a plan B.”

~~~~~~~~

“I think we should keep it,” Stiles says when they’re back at the loft. “Maybe we could even train it to find lost pets or something.”

“It stinks,” Lydia points out. “The other day I could smell it all the way to my house.”

“Yes,” says Derek. “And sooner or later someone will want to know what the hell died in the lake and they will find it.”

“I sent Deaton a picture I took of it and he says this species is sociable and that there’s a whole colony living in the Everglades,” Scott says, after he finishes sending a text. “If we catch it, he has a colleague that will drive it there.”

Danielle’s stomach rumbles.

“We should eat before coming up with a plan.”

Stiles nods.

“Yeah, our brains will work better with fuel.”

Everybody turns to look at Derek, who stares back at them.

“Fine! I’ll see if I have something to eat,” he says, getting up.

They gather around the dining table, while Derek messes around in the kitchen, looking at the pictures Scott took of the monster and cooing at how cute the ducklings were.

In ten minutes the loft is filled with a mouthwatering smell.

“So, hmm.” Derek places a pot on the table. “Try this.”

They all grab plates and dig in.

“Oh, god,” Stiles moans obscenely. “Marry me, please!”

Derek lets his fork fall on the plate.

“What?”

“This is really good, Derek,” Allison says. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

Isaac makes a face.

“Yeah, you never cooked when I was living here.”

“I had some cookbooks lying around.” Derek finally tries the food himself and lets out a pleased noise. “This _is_ good!”

With their bellies full, they come up with a plan to catch the monster: since Isaac is good at mimicking animal noises, he’ll pretend he’s a distressed puppy to lure it in.

“So, we know there’s a big old oak on the shore here,” Stiles says, pointing at the map of the preserve. “Scott can climb it with a crate, while Isaac hides in a box near its roots. Once the monster appears to save him, Scott drops on top of it with the crate and that’s it.”

“I’m really not comfortable in small spaces…”

“Then your distress will be even more realistic.”

Isaac gapes at Stiles.

“You’re a horrible person.”

“I’m just being practical!”

Later, as they are leaving the loft, Scott asks Danielle if she got Derek the cookbooks. She nods, smiling.

“Cool,” he says.

~~~~~~~~

The following night Scott climbs the oak with the crate and Isaac gets inside the box. After just two minutes of Isaac whimpering like a kicked puppy, the monster runs out of the lake, reaching for the box, while making distressed cooing noises.

Scott falls on the monster and Derek jumps from the shadows to help him hold the crate, while the monster wails and thrashes around inside. The rest of them stick metal bars in the bottom of the crate to keep the monster trapped and they take it to Deaton.

At the vet’s office Deaton examines him (turns out the monster is male, but Stiles insists on calling him Betty Boop, because of the noises he makes) and calls his colleague.

“Are you sure he’ll be okay?” Danielle asks, as Betty Boop nudges her hand with his face through the bars of the crate, looking at her with big, soulful eyes.

“He’s healthy and young and the Everglades colony is very friendly. He’ll be fine,” Deaton assures her. He holds her back for a moment when the others leave. “I’m very glad you’re around, Danielle.” And pushes her towards the door.

It’s awkward and nice. Mostly awkward, though.

“Thanks?”

~~~~~~~~

There’s the issue of Derek’s clothes. He doesn’t dress horribly, per se, and Danielle understands the need for a werewolf to dress practically, but does his color palette need to be so drab?

Danielle did notice one measly burgundy Henley amid all the grey, so she sneaks a couple more burgundy sweaters and a few ones in several shades of green into his drawers. Hopefully, once he grabs one of them and sees his eyes pop in the big vanity mirror she got him, he’ll make the right choice.

~~~~~~~~

A couple of days before Christmas Danielle is watching Teen Mom in her room, when her mother calls, saying she has a friend at the door.

Outside there’s a familiar-looking girl holding a plate of lemon bars.

“Danielle, right?” she asks, smiling softly.

“Yes?”

“I’m Cora.”

“Derek’s sister!”

Cora’s face splits in a huge grin.

“Yes! Hi!” She looks down at the plate in her hands. “I’m home for the holidays and I’d have brought you something if Derek had said anything about you.” She all but shoves the plate at Danielle. “It’s not as fancy as the stuff in those books you gave him and that he loves, but it’s the only recipe our mom used to make I still remember.”

“Oh my god, you shouldn’t have.”

“No, I should. Derek is a loser, but he’s my brother and I love him.” Cora shrugs and looks at Danielle. “Thanks for being his friend.”

Danielle opens her arms and Cora hugs her. Aww, cuddly werewolves.

~~~~~~~~

“Wait, so Allison’s aunt seduced Derek when he was around our age, so she could get to his family and kill them?”

“Yup.”

“And you know this how?”

“Allison figured it out and felt so guilty, she told me.”

“And now you’re telling everybody?”

Scott holds up his hands.

“I told Stiles because he’s my best friend and we share everything. Plus, I was dying and I thought Derek was dead,” he adds. “I’m telling you now, because you’re Derek’s best friend. You’re the one who wanted to know everything that’s going on, so you would know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Wait,” Danielle says. “When you said Miss Blake used the sacrifices to _seduce_ Derek into helping her, you meant figuratively, right?”

“Nope. Like Stiles put it ‘she full on roofied him and got her jollies off while he was half-dead.’”

Danielle shudders.

“Stiles has to have an opinion on everything, doesn’t he?”

“Everything,” Scott agrees.

“Well then, the next time Derek as much as looks at another girl, I’m making Stiles get the sheriff’s department to background-check her.”

“Good.” Scott nods at her and gets up to go to his next class, patting Isaac on the back on the way out of the cafeteria. Isaac pulls a face when Scott isn’t watching and comes to sit next to Danielle.

“What?” she asks.

“Scott always gets this smell when he's around you--” And then he snaps his mouth shut.

“What smell?”

“… Nothing.”

“Isaac!”

Isaac sighs.

“Fine. When Scott’s with you he smells, you know…” He blushes. “Turned on.”

Oh.

Oh well, it’s not like she needs werewolf super-senses to figure that one out.

“You’re getting really good at this smelling business, aren’t you?” she asks, moving the talk away from Scott. That… That one she doesn’t want to think about. Yet.

Isaac perks up.

“You think so?”

“Oh yes, that was really impressive.” Danielle is feeling a bit guilty, but it’s for a good cause and, well, super-senses _are_ impressive to a human, so no lie there. “What other people’s arousal can you smell?”

“Why?”

“For training,” she says. “I’m helping you train smell-identification.”

“Oh,” Isaac says and smiles. “Cool, thanks.”

Oh, you sweet summer child. Bless.

“How about Derek?” she asks. “He’s all guarded and he’s a born werewolf, so that’s good practice. Does he smell like that around anyone?”

“Not around you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Danielle rolls her eyes and throws a balled up napkin at Isaac’s head, because, ew! Derek is like a brother to her. A selfish, loser brother that doesn’t do jack-squat for her, but a brother nonetheless.

“Okay, okay,” Isaac says, rubbing his forehead where the napkin hit him. He pauses, thinking about it. “I probably got this one wrong…”

“No, come on.” Danielle gives him her most supportive smile. It’s the one that was always meant for Heather, no one else, and it feels wrong and plastic now.

“Well.” Isaac takes a deep breath and pulls a face. “Around Stiles.”

Danielle blinks.

Turns out she won’t need Stiles to background-check anyone.

“And what about Stiles?” She wonders if he has a rap-sheet. He probably does, but it’s a calculated risk. “Does he smell like that around Derek?”

“Stiles smells like that around everyone. And around curly fries,” Isaac adds.

~~~~~~~~

“Oh.” Allison stops at the door to Lydia’s bedroom and stares at Danielle, who gives her a strained smile. “She’s here, too?”

“Indeed she is,” Lydia says, locking the door behind Allison and taking a bottle of red wine and three glasses from under her bed. “This is not a simple sleepover, but a reunion to come up with a plan.” She finishes the statement by uncorking the bottle.

Allison raises an eyebrow.

“We want to set up Stiles and Derek,” Danielle explains.

“Oooh.” Allison sits down on the bed and leans forward, interested. “That actually makes so much sense.”

“Right?” Lydia hands her a glass of wine. “They’re both broken and intense, so no one will be too overwhelmed by the other.”

“Plus, Derek has the whole bad boy thing going on, but it’s all soft inside, and Stiles looks all inoffensive and awkward, but he’s actually a budding sociopath,” Danielle adds. “They complete each other!”

Lydia snatches back the glass she was about to give Danielle.

“That’s my friend you’re talking about.”

“I was exaggerating for dramatic purposes.” Danielle takes the glass anyway. “Derek has had enough psychos in his life.”

Allison clears her throat pointedly.

“Right. Any ideas, yet?”

“Oh, yes,” Danielle says and Lydia’s eyes get a dangerous gleam.

Half an hour and several glasses of wine later they’ve shared their plan with Allison, which includes anonymous notes, fake internet profiles, gossip about improbable hook-ups and blind dates.

“What do you think?” Lydia asks, reaching for the second bottle of wine, which is already half-empty.

Allison gapes.

“That it’s a horrible idea.” She holds her hands up when Danielle and Lydia glare at her. “I’m sorry, but rom-com tropes aren’t possible in real life.”

“I used to think the same about werewolves,” Danielle mutters into her glass and Lydia giggles. “You have another idea?”

“Well,” Allison stops to look mournfully at her empty glass. “We all agree that there could be something there, right?”

The other two nod and Lydia quickly fills Allison’s glass. 

“Since we have team Stiles,” Allison says, pointing at Lydia. “And team Derek…” She points at Danielle.

“Allison, this is not Twilight.” Lydia is trying really hard not to laugh. Danielle gives something between a snort and a hiccup. God, just how strong is this wine?

“I don’t know, we could always douse Stiles with body-glitter.” And they both dissolve into giggles.

“Wait, wait,” Lydia says, wiping her eyes and smearing her mascara. “We’re missing a Bella!”

“We can give them a decorative lamp?”

“Ouch,” Lydia says, clicking her glass with Danielle’s in appreciation.

Allison sighs.

“Can we get back to the plan?”

Danielle nods and Lydia makes a gesture of zipping her mouth shut, her lips still quivering.

“So, we have team Edward and team Jacob--” Allison flinches just as the words leave her mouth. “I mean…”

This time Lydia and Danielle end up laughing for a good five minutes.

“Oh, god, Lydia, don’t let me have more wine,” Allison groans. “Like I was saying: we have team _Stiles_ and team _Derek_ and the seed is already there. We just need to plant it in their heads.”

Lydia sobers up.

“You mean gaslighting them?”

“No, nothing so extreme.” Allison makes a face. “At least I hope it’s not like that. I mean suggesting it: you pick something innocent that can be constructed like something else and then ask what’s going on.”

“Like, if they touch casually, I go to Derek and ask what was that?” Danielle asks. “Until he starts wondering himself?”

“Exactly!”

It’s an excellent plan. When Danielle learned that in hunter families men are warriors and women leaders, she thought it was some patronizing patriarchal bullshit to keep women content. She’s glad she was wrong.

“We need to write this down or else we won’t remember anything tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~

Danielle isn’t able to put her part of Allison’s plan into motion the next day, because wine hangovers are the worst. Still, it was fun to hang around human girls (well, Lydia isn’t human, but at least Banshees can get drunk like one).

But Sunday she catches Derek having breakfast _before noon_ in a little café he likes in the outskirts of town, and there’s no better time than the present.

“Hi,” she says, sitting down at his table.

“What do you want?” Derek asks from behind his newspaper.

“A milkshake.” Danielle sticks her tongue out and calls the waiter.

“I’m reading,” Derek points out, still hiding behind his newspaper.

“And I’m playing a game,” Danielle says, waving her cellphone at him.

As she plays, she keeps eyeing Derek’s plate of bacon. She’s hungry and the bacon looks crispy and all sad and alone. Derek catches her staring at it, and pulls the plate towards himself. Danielle pouts. Derek sighs, pushes the plate towards her and goes back to reading.

Danielle munches on the bacon while she passes two new levels on the game. Until she loses by a hazelnut. She frowns at her cellphone: if that striped candy had been vertical instead of horizontal, she’d make it.

“Say, Derek--“

Derek crunches the newspaper and looks up at the ceiling, sighing.

“What?”

Danielle shrugs.

“Just wondering what was that thing between you and Stiles.”

Derek stops trying to straighten his newspaper to look at her.

“What?”

“You know, the other day, when we were dropping Lydia off, you two shared a ‘moment’.” She makes the air quotes with her fingers.

“What?”

Danielle throws her arms up.

“Really? I got you a thesaurus! You should read and learn all the other words the English language has to offer.”

Derek glares at her.

“ _What_ moment?”

Danielle glares back.

“You know: Stiles was staring at you, then you stared back and then there was this exchange of… energy.”

Derek goes red to the root of his hair. Someone should really give Isaac a postcard congratulating him on his nose or something.

“There was no ‘exchange of energy’ or whatever.”

“Really? Hmm.” She makes her most innocent face, but the truth is there was some staring going on. If there was anything more to it, she can’t know, so he won’t catch the lie in her heartbeat. “Are you sure?”

“I didn’t stare at Stiles, Danielle.”

“Weird.” She goes back to messing with her cellphone and sends Lydia a quick text saying _part 1 of plan go_. She can feel Derek still looking at her from the corner of the eyes. “Stiles was definitely staring at you, though. Must have been the sweater.”

“What?”

Danielle sighs. Maybe being laconic is part of Derek’s charm. Hopefully Stiles is into that, she thinks, reading Lydia’s text, that says _part 2 tomorrow @ school w/ S_.

“The sweater you were wearing that day, which brings out your eyes.” She smirks at him. “I got you that sweater, by the way.”

“It was laundry day.”

“Oh? And is it laundry day today again? Because I got you that one you’re wearing, too.”

Derek frowns and looks at his lap.

“They’re nice, okay?” he mutters, not looking at her. “Make me feel nice.”

Danielle gives him a piece of bacon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *apologizes for the cavity-inducing fluff and hands everyone toothbrushes*

Sitting near the window has to be the best decision Danielle made without knowing. From where she's sitting she has a perfect view of Lydia and Stiles studying outside (she should be paying attention to class, but before sitting down Lydia shot a meaningful look in her direction and lately Danielle's priorities have shifted).

For the first time since she found out about werewolves, Danielle wishes she was one, so she could hear what they're saying. Luckily, while Lydia is impossible to read, Stiles is like the world's best mime: his head snaps up when Lydia says something and when she shrugs, his eyes sort of boggle out and he starts shaking his head, like a wasp has suddenly made a home in his inner ear. Lydia looks up from her book, tilts her head, batting her eyelashes in a picture of innocence, and Danielle has to cover her mouth with a hand to stifle a giggle at that.

Stiles stands up with a jump and starts walking backwards, gesturing wildly and tripping on his backpack, before picking up his stuff and hightailing out of there. Lydia spares a quick glance in Danielle's direction and turns her right hand discreetly to give her thumbs up.

\--------

"So..."

"The others left already," Derek says, staring at a wall, like he thinks his loft needs another hole. "What are you still doing here?"

Danielle chooses to ignore him.

"It was really nice what you did to Stiles," she says. 

"What I did... What?"

"You know, bringing a glass of water when he was thirsty."

Derek gapes at her.

"I was in the kitchen! He asked for water! That means being civil, not nice."

"Hm-hm." Danielle waits a heartbeat. "Hey, I'm really thirsty. Could you get me a glass of water?"

"Go get one yourself," Derek says, sitting on the recliner and reaching for the remote.

Danielle smirks and Derek flinches, going red all over.

"No, you're right, it was just a glass of water," she says, matter-of-factly. "Which is why I don't understand why Stiles was _so_ happy about it."

Derek doesn't say anything. 

\--------

Stiles is sitting on the recliner when Derek comes to the living area.

"I'm sorry," he says, jumping up like he's been electrocuted. "I'll sit somewhere else."

"No, it's okay." Derek stutters a little and looks horrified at Stiles.

"Please," Stiles says, rubbing his hands nervously on his pants. "It's your spot." 

"No, I insist!"

Lydia is watching the interaction like a hawk, while Scott and Isaac stare at Stiles and Derek like they've both grown extra heads. Allison sinks back on the couch and lifts her book to her face, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter. 

Danielle ends being the one taking the recliner, while Stiles and Derek sit ramrod-straight next to each other on the couch. 

\--------

Danielle, Scott, Isaac, Lydia and Allison are arriving to the loft a week later, when Scott suddenly stops them.

Danielle panics, wondering what he sensed, when Isaac's eyes go wide and he gapes at the door. Scott brings a finger to his lips, smirking, before tiptoeing to the door and slamming it open.

"Aha!"

Stiles flails from where he was lying on top of Derek on the couch and falls to the floor.

"Are you okay?" Derek asks, turning to look down at him. Stiles whimpers.

"Dude!" Scott laughs. "You didn't hear us coming?"

"I was distracted," Derek mutters, sitting up and placing a pillow on his lap.

Danielle squeaks. She got him that pillow! 

Derek finally gets up and helps Stiles to his feet. Stiles stumbles forward and Derek catches him. There's about half a second of awkwardness, before Stiles gives Derek a radiant smile and Derek ducks his head, blushing, his lips quirking up.

It's disgustingly sweet and Isaac groans, while Scott grins silly at them, like a dad watching his kid walk for the first time.

Allison steps in front of Danielle and Lydia and holds both her fists behind her back. They both fist-bump her. 

\--------

"Man, I'm glad I'm not living with Derek anymore," Isaac says later, looking at Stiles' jeep parked neatly next to Derek's Toyota, as they get into Lydia's hybrid.

"Well, I'm just glad," Scott says, beaming, as Lydia drives away to take them all home. "I was starting to think those two would never get their heads out of their asses and make a move."

Lydia hits the brakes so fast, Danielle almost goes flying through the windshield. She turns to Scott, ignoring Danielle's glare.

" _You knew?_ "

Everyone is staring at Scott, who sinks in his seat and gulps.

"Duh."

Allison sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Duh?"

"Stiles is my best friend. He tells me everything." Scott stops and makes a face. "Oh god, I really hope he won't tell me _everything_ now. But still: best bros! And I've known Derek since he was scared and paranoid, thinking everyone was out to get him, and I know the way he changed, say, around Allison and me, it's completely different from how he changed around Stiles. Plus, he reeks around Stiles." 

"And you never considered saying anything?" Danielle asks. "You know, to put your _best bro_ and your beta out of their pining misery?"

"I didn't want to meddle."

"You're the alpha, now," Isaac points out.

"So?"

Lydia throws her arms in the air.

"You're supposed to meddle!" 

\--------

The next day Danielle meets with Stiles for coffee after a strange text from him saying they need to talk.

She sits down in front of him with her order and raises one eyebrow. Stiles fidgets. Danielle mentally prepares one of the fighting moves Allison taught her, in case he's planning on breaking Derek's heart.

"Derek and I are dating," he finally says.

"Sort of figured that out already, what with the making out on the couch and the little hearts that pop around your heads whenever you two look at each other," Danielle says.

Stiles blushes and smiles to himself, looking likes he's melting, and Danielle relaxes.

"I wanted to talk to you, because you were Heather's best friend and now you're Derek's best friend and..." He gives her a strained smile. "I want to make sure things won't get weird."

Oh.

It's adorable that he doesn't realize she was part of the matchmaking team. 

Danielle doesn't say anything and waits for Stiles to reach nervously for his drink.

"Heather only wanted you for your body," she says, just as Stiles takes a drink, and smirks when he chokes on it.

Then he continues choking.

Shit.

Danielle jumps from her seat to hit Stiles on the back, just as servers come running to help and the patrons around them look worried. Killing Derek's new boyfriend inadvertently would be a major setback, to put it mildly.

"My body?" Stiles wheezes, after he regains a decent color and the coffee shop goes back to normal.

"She only wanted to have sex with you." Danielle gives him a sheepish smile. "She thought you were the right guy for to l have her first time with and that's it. There was no romance involved and I'm sure she'd wish you happiness, so I won't get weird about it." Stiles relaxes visibly. "Though you hurt Derek and I'll make you wish Miss Blake had taken you instead."

\--------

The rest of their senior year is pretty uneventful, save for the part where a Dark Druid (luckily much less powerful than Miss Blake) comes looking for the Nemeton, sees Stiles’ pretty face instead and decides the Nemeton can wait.

After having the entire sheriff’s department on his tail, Scott and Derek wolfing out on him and Lydia screaming right in his ears, the guy ends up regretting his life choices and Stiles is saved. 

And then August rolls around. 

"No."

"I beg your pardon?" Lydia snatches back the envelope and gapes at Danielle.

"I'm sorry, Lydia, but after your party last year and Heather's party I promised myself I'd never set foot at a birthday party again."

"But it's not a party- _party_ ," Lydia insists. "It's just a get-together with the seven of us. The same thing we do every week at Derek's, only this time it will be at my place with catering from a chef with two Michelin stars. And The Notebook." 

Danielle sighs and takes back the envelope. Inside there's an invitation in heavy stock cream paper and embossed letters, saying _Lydia Martin's Birthday Soirée_. Patrick Bateman would kill for it. 

"Fine."

\--------

Stiles and Derek are cuddling on a love-seat, talking in hushed tones, Allison and Isaac are dozing off on the cushions, Lydia is bawling her eyes out watching the movie and Danielle is bored to death. She enjoys looking at Ryan Gosling's face just as much as any other girl, but she's already seen the movie twice, so instead she goes to the porch-swing outside the sunroom.

"Bored already?" Scott asks, sticking his head through the door.

"No," she says, patting the seat at her side. "Well, maybe a bit. Don't tell Lydia."

"Don't worry." He sits down next to her. "This party is not like the ones she used to throw."

"It's okay. The last big birthday party I was at was Heather's and, really, never again."

Silence falls between them until Scott suddenly smirks. Danielle frowns.

"Oh, I remember that party, alright. My poor bruised ego is never going to forget how you shot me down."

They both laugh and Danielle shrugs. She's not going to apologize for that.

"At least you didn't call me a bitch, nor did you try to pull a Nice Guy on me. Four for you Scott McCall!"

"Why would I call you that? You didn't owe me anything and you made sure I got that." He laughs again. "You know, really _really_ sure. And I watched Stiles make a fool of himself around Lydia for years, so I know how that goes." He turns to look at her and that's when Danielle realizes how close they are. "If anything's going to change..." Scott pauses to lick his lips and when he speaks again, his voice is lower. "That's up to you." 

Danielle really hates werewolves right now, because she knows Scott can hear her heartbeat thundering in her ribcage.

Scott clears his throat and looks down. 

"So, what are you going to study again?" he asks.

Danielle blinks, trying to get her brain back online.

"Psychology," she says. "I want to be a guidance counselor. I want to be to the next generation of Beacon Hills the exact opposite of what Morrell was to us." 

Scott cringes.

"I feel that was our fault."

"No, it's not. If she wanted to keep an eye on you, she shouldn't have chosen a disguise that made other people need her."

"You're going to be great at it," Scott says.

"You think?"

Scott points behind her and Danielle turns around. Inside the sunroom Stiles has his back to them, but she can see he's talking excitedly, arms shooting in every direction. Derek is listening, a small smile playing on his lips, his head leaning on one hand, while the other hand traces small patterns on Stiles' knee. He looks happy and relaxed.

"You pretty much fixed Derek."

"He fixed himself," Danielle points out. 

"Perhaps, but you showed him he could."

Danielle ducks her head, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"Berkeley, right?"

She nods.

"Cool. Unfortunately, Lydia is going to Boston, but she couldn't say no to MIT. But with you going to Berkeley and Allison and Stiles taking Criminal Studies in Stanford, at least most of the pack is near."

"What about you?"

"I'm staying. I'll continue to work with Deaton and I'm taking the vet-tech program at the community college. I need to protect the territory." Scott laughs when he sees Danielle's shocked face. "It's what I want, Danielle. And Isaac is still in school and Derek's here, too, so it's all good." 

\--------

The next day Danielle knocks on Derek's door, holding a cardboard tray with three cups. After a while Stiles opens the door and gives her a sleepy smile.

"I'm sorry, I thought you guys were already up."

"Nah, it's fine. Come on in." He motions her inside and Danielle has to pause for a moment, because Stiles is wearing boxers and nothing else. That's what he's been hiding under all those layers? You're welcome, Derek. 

"I saw your jeep outside, so I brought you coffee, too."

Stiles grabs a cup, removes the lid and swoons when he smells the coffee.

"Oh god," he moans. "Don't tell Lydia or Scott, but you're the best."

"I know, right?"

They're drinking their coffees at the kitchen table when Derek stumbles from the sleeping area and stops, squinting at them. Stiles beams.

"Hey, look who brought us coffee."

"Nope," Derek says, turning around and going back to bed. "Nope, nope, nope."

Stiles gapes.

"What the-- Derek!"

" _I'm sleeping!_ "

"Don't worry," Danielle says, taking a sip of her coffee. "He does this all the time." 

Stiles frowns, but ends up shrugging.

"So college, eh?"

\--------

It's her last night in Beacon Hills and Danielle is checking one last time to make sure she packed everything for college, when Scott sends her a text, asking her to come outside.

He's standing next to his bike, helmet under his arm, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"Hi."

"Sorry, I know it's late," Scott says. "But I figured you wanted to spend the day with your family tomorrow and I needed to make sure of something before you go away." He takes a deep breath. "I'm not crazy, am I? Things changed, right? Between you and me, I mean."

Danielle feels the corners of her lips curling up, and she ducks her head, trying to hide it.

"You're smiling," he says. "You never smile."

"What do you mean?" she asks. "I smile all the time."

"No, you don't. You do it to be polite, you smirk when you out-smart someone and you pretend. But you never really mean it."

"Maybe I haven't had many reasons lately," Danielle says, fully aware she's smiling right now, the type of smile that reaches her eyes.

"But you're doing it now for me and you can't take that away from me." He steps closer, until they're standing toe-to-toe. "Can I kiss you?" 

Danielle looks up at his open, hopeful face, worrying her lower lip between her teeth and nods.

The kiss is sweet like spun sugar, their lips pressed together and a warm hand curled over Danielle's shoulder, and takes just as long, before Scott is stepping back with a smile.

"Good luck," he whispers and gets on his bike and drives away. He turns to wave at her, a huge grin on his face, and drives right into a trash bin.

"Scott!" Danielle shrieks, as both Scott and the bike go somersaulting through the air.

Scott stands up and hops around on one foot, while the other sticks out at an unnatural angle, looking for his bike.

"I'm okay!" he says, when the foot snaps back in place and he can get back on the bike. "I'm okay!"

The true alpha of Beacon Hills, ladies and gentlemen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaaaah! I managed to finish this (after spending the morning of Christmas Eve in the ER, fun times), just in time for a little happiness before tomorrow comes and Jeff Davis kills our favorites and redeems a bunch of unredeemable guys no one likes (these are not spoilers. This is literally what he always does).

**H4ever**  
sourwolf, really?

**Sourwolf**  
stiles set it up. where did you get my skype thing?

**H4ever**  
stiles, since you forgot to give it to me

_Sourwolf logged out_

~~~~~~~~

**H4ever**  
Hi!

_Sourwolf logged out_

**H4ever**  
you suck, you know that?

~~~~~~~~

**Sourwolf**  
hi

**H4ever**  
are you really pinging me or did you click my handle by mistake?

**Sourwolf**  
scott wants to know if he can have your address to send you something

**H4ever**  
sure!

**Sourwolf**  
so what's your address?

**H4ever**  
i gave it to you before leaving for college

**Sourwolf**  
sorry. lost it

~~~~~~~~

Scott's postcard arrives later that week. It's a simple view of the Preserve, with _So you won't forget the fantastic landmarks of BH. -Scott_ written on the back.

Danielle sends him a particularly striking view of the Blum Center, saying _So much to remember, so little time. Berkeley has nothing on BH. -Danielle_.

And so begins their weekly postcard exchange, with Scott sending her the most pathetic postcards their little hometown has to offer (including, much to their surprise, one from their highschool. _Who knew our school was such an important building? BH really is small_ ), while Danielle sends him some of the most beautiful views of Berkeley. The one of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital says _Just walked in on Derek masturbating with Stiles via Skype. Send help_. Danielle laughs for five minutes straight and offers Scott a shoulder to cry on.

Two months into their exchange Scott sends her a gaudy postcard of a bunny in a pink basket surrounded by softly lit flowers. _BH ran out of landmarks. Not our fault! Luckily Deaton loves Anne Geddes_ , Scott writes. And yes, the postcard is from Beacon Hills Veterinary Office. 

They don't mention their postcard exchange (which by now has become a contest to see who can come up with the ugliest one) whenever Danielle is home for the holidays, but there's always at least one postcard at her dorm when she gets back, talking about something she said or did.

~~~~~~~~

Danielle's college years are pretty uneventful: she goes to classes, she studies, she gets great grades, her teachers love her, she goes to frat parties, she goes out on dates. And herein lies the problem: she dates quite a lot of guys and even a couple of girls (to get the full college experience and satisfy her curiosity. Turns out it's not her thing), but for some reason she's really not into it and she never goes on a second date. 

At first Danielle thinks it's because it's hard to connect with someone who doesn't know about the supernatural and she can't share anything about her life at home. But only when she realizes she's more excited about that week's postcard from Scott than about her date with the hot guy from her sociology class does she figure out exactly why. 

~~~~~~~~

The call from Stiles comes halfway through her senior year.

" _So, I already talked to Cora, but I figured I should talk to you, too,_ " he says, sounding nervous.

"Okay?"

“ _IwannaskDerektomarrymeanIwanknowhatyouthinkofit._ ”

"What?" And, oh god, she's starting to sound like Derek.

Stiles takes a deep breath and exhales noisily on the other end of the line.

" _I want to ask Derek to marry me and I want to know what you think about it,_ ” he enunciates carefully.

"I'm sorry, are you asking me for Derek's hand?"

" _I guess?_ "

Danielle laughs.

"How many goats are you offering?"

Stiles groans.

" _Danielle!_ "

"Stiles."

“ _What?_ ”

"Go make an honest man out of Derek," she says. "You have my blessing."

~~~~~~~~

They're in a small formalwear rental store one hour away from Beacon Hills, with a tiny old man, half-hidden by a mountain of clothes Danielle keeps piling on his arms, trailing behind them. Derek huffs and rolls his eyes, as Danielle puts yet another tie next to his face.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Trying to see which tie goes better with your eyes," she says. "Which would go much faster if you didn't keep rolling them. Remind me to ask Lydia about Stiles' tie, or else you'll end up clashing."

"But why do you care?"

"Why do I care if your ties clash?"

"No, why do you care what tie I'm wearing at my wedding."

"Because it's a best-ma-- best-person's job to take care of those things, no?"

"And you're going to be my best-man, person, whatever, why?"

Danielle takes a step back. She's used to Derek's carelessness after all these years, but this stings.

"That's what best friends are for, right?"

"Best friends?"

"Yeah, but..." Danielle takes a deep breath. "If you prefer Cora to stand with you..."

"You're my best friend?"

Danielle blinks.

"... Yes," she says carefully, confused by his question. "What do you think I've been doing all these years?"

"You're my best friend," he repeats and by now Danielle is starting to worry about Derek's mental health and her own life choices. 

Derek makes a weird face and suddenly doubles over, sinking to the floor, his face hidden in his hands.

"Derek?" Oh god, is he laughing or crying? "Sweetie, are you all right?"

Derek's reply is just a strangled noise, as his shoulders shake.

"Is this normal?" Danielle asks the tiny old man. "Is this some kind of pre-wedding jitters breakdown?"

"I don't know," he says, staring horrified at Derek over the pile of clothes in his arms. "I never saw one quite like this."

"I have a best friend!" Derek yells suddenly, jumping up with a maniacal grin on his face. Danielle shrieks and the tiny old man yelps and runs away in a flurry of wool and silk.

"Come on," Derek says, smiling and takes the shirt that fell on Danielle's head that she's clutching to her chest. "Let’s get me ready to get married."

~~~~~~~~

The ceremony goes without a hitch: the officiant must be a frustrated stand-up comedian, who spends the entire time making jokes and puns that make everybody groan, Derek stutters all the way through his vows, Stiles draws a blank half-way through his, and there's a moment of panic when Scott reaches for the rings, finds a hole in his pocket and ends up having to fish them from the hem of his dress pants with the help of Lydia and Mrs. McCall. And when Derek and Stiles finally kiss, there's not one single dry eye in sight.

With the help of Cora, Danielle finishes decorating Roscoe with shaving cream and balloons made of condoms (they're not sure whether or not they want to see Stiles’ reaction when he finds out. It will be hilarious, but he may kill them) and goes back to the venue, waving at Allison dancing with Isaac, who waves back. Derek and Stiles are in the middle of the dance floor, dancing and staring into each other's eyes, in a way that makes everyone uncomfortable and questioning of their own existence. 

"Help," Scott says, appearing out of nowhere and pulling Danielle to the dance-floor.

"What happened?" she asks, letting herself be twirled around.

Scott looks behind her, yelps and turns them around.

"My mom and Stiles' dad are drunk and making out on the couch like teenagers," he says. "I mean, I'm glad they _finally_ figured it out, but I don't need to witness just how much they're 'figuring out'."

Danielle peeks over Scott's shoulder and sees Mrs. McCall on the couch with one leg on the sheriff's lap and one hand disappearing inside his half-opened shirt. The sheriff has hitched her skirt up and is groping her thigh. There's more tongue than Danielle ever wished to see from her friends' parents. 

"You go, Mama McCall! You tap that law-enforcing ass!"

Scott makes a hilariously offended noise in the back of his throat.

"No!" he says. "The only ones allowed to tap any ass today are Stiles and Derek. Properly married, in the dark, missionary and..." Scott's breath hitches and shuts his eyes, shuddering.

"You're picturing Stiles' and Derek's wedding night, now, aren't you?" 

Scott whimpers and nods miserably. Danielle laughs and Scott opens one eye at her, looking something between pained and amused. He raises one hand and brushes his thumb against the uplifted corner of her mouth.

“Again with the smile, Scott?”

Scott shrugs.

“I'm a sucker for a pretty smile, so sue me.”

This is when Danielle realizes this is the first time they've been alone since that kiss years ago (sure, they're not exactly alone, but their breaths are mingling and there's a bubble of warmth around them that blocks out all the other dancing couples). The impressive stash of postcards she has in her dorm made her forget it.

“Nah,” she says and leans forward.

This kiss is not chaste and quick like the first was and soon enough Danielle is clutching Scott's tie with one hand, while the other cards through his hair. Scott wraps his arms around her and brings their bodies flush together, sending a thrill down her spine.

“Scott,” she says, panting lightly, and places both hands on his chest. “We're in the middle of the dance-floor.”

Scott looks at her dazedly for a moment.

“Yeah,” he finally says, blinking. “I want to be able to scold my mom on appropriate behavior at weddings.” 

Danielle lets out a huff of laughter and lays her head on Scott's shoulder, while they sway to the sound of the music. She looks up just in time to see Derek wink at her, before burying his nose in Stiles' neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://888mph.tumblr.com).


End file.
